


Stim

by jack_hunter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Autism, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I just had a meltdown and I needed to project, I'm Bad At Tagging, Sort Of, i'm projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jack_hunter/pseuds/jack_hunter
Summary: CT-19-1776 is a Clone Trooper for the Grand Army of the Republic. There had been a problem with his cloning tube whilst he was still in development that led to it rupturing more than once. In the end, he was a miracle as none of the Kaminoans had even expected him to make it to term. His batch-mates always said there was something… special about him
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Stim

**Author's Note:**

> It is three am, I had a meltdown and needed to project. Enter: An autistic clone trooper with a family who love him. Please enjoy!
> 
> BONUS! The first person to correctly name every Hamilton reference in this will receive a Clone Wars fanfic dedicated to them with a pairing of their choice.

CT-19-1776 is a Clone Trooper for the Grand Army of the Republic. There had been a problem with his cloning tube whilst he was still in development that led to it rupturing more than once. In the end, he was a miracle as none of the Kaminoans had even expected him to make it to term. His batch-mates always said there was something… special about him. Schuyler Squadron, composed of Foxtrot, Kilo, Marco, Chase and CT-1776 himself, had a bit of a harder time getting through training than Master Shaak Ti would have liked. Whilst the rest of the squadron had no issues and ace their tests, CT-1776 struggled. 

His supervisors would call CT-1766 an unfocused troublemaker. From his time as a cadet they would always say he was nothing but a problem. “There is something about CT-1776,” Master Shaak Ti once said, “his issues during development led to many weaknesses as a trooper, but at the same time there is a uniqueness to him that I have never seen before. I believe he may go on to become one of the best soldiers in the Clone Army.”

The rest of the supervisors didn’t share Master Ti’s beliefs. The trainers were tough on him, much tougher than they were on other cadets. They didn’t tolerate his “quirks”: the avoidance of eye contact, the constant flapping of his hands and picking of his nails, the humming. Not to mention the repeating of almost everything he heard. He was just… different. 

Schuyler Squadron was always there for him, though. They knew how to help him after a tough day of training and made sure that he was always in good hands. They knew he didn’t like it when his hair touched his neck but hated the cool feel of scissors, so they would always pitch in to help when he got it trimmed by having theirs done at the same time. (Foxtrot kept his standard cut whereas Chase and Marco got matching Republic sigils shaved into the backs of their heads. You could only tell them apart because one of them was blond. No one knew which one. Kilo went for the completely bald look, but he kept a goatee instead. CT-1776 had a standard cut too, but he had a small bit of a fringe which he liked to tug on from time to time.) They knew that he had to wear blacks that were just slightly too small for him, even going as far as to personal tamper with the linings to make them fit just right. They knew that he struggled with the constant commotion around the barracks and couldn’t sleep unless in total silence and darkness, so Foxtrot snuck him some ear plugs from the firing range and re-purposed an old and worn out set of sleep clothes into a makeshift eye mask. They also knew that when things got bad, there was no stopping it, and the only thing they could do was make sure their littlest brother didn’t hurt himself in the process. 

It wasn’t until after Schuyler Squadron voiced their concerns to Master Ti about how CT-1776 would fare with the next phase of his training did the Jedi decide it was time to bring in someone a bit more qualified to make a judgement. 

Sola Naberrie, a human with frizzy black curls and fair skin, travelled all the way from Naboo to Kamino at Master Ti’s request. Specialising in developmental neurology and having previously had training in combat, Master Ti believed she was the best to make a decision for CT-1776’s future. Sola viewed him in a  _ very  _ different light to everyone else. 

“CT-1776 is the best soldier in this army,” she said confidently after a week of overseeing Schuyler Squadron. Sola joined them as if she had been a part of the group from the beginning, training with them, eating with them, sleeping in the barracks with them, all the while taking notes on their dynamic. Unlike the rest of the supervisors this team had had before, Sola didn’t see an unfocused troublemaker. 

Sola saw a clone trooper with a strict routine. Sure, all troopers were disciplined to military standards, but not all troopers cleaned their blasters three times with such efficiency that they looked as if they had only just been made in the factories. Not all troopers would ensure they arrived on time to their schedule with such precision that it came down to the millisecond. Not all troopers got frustrated when their brothers were even the slightest bit out of line, even on things which would never normally matter like how they would joke around with Foxtrot despite him being the leader of their squadron, or how they placed their armour though there was no specific order required to storing it. 

Sola also saw a soldier with a marksman's ability. CT-1776 would always seem to be one step ahead of everyone. He would know to pause to avoid crashing into an officer as he walked around the corner, he would know how late it was getting in the day despite not having a chronometer near him, he would know when people were standing too close behind him that he had to be careful when he walked. When asked, he simply explained that he could hear the footsteps of the officers around the corner, that he could feel the sunlight setting on his cheek, that he could feel the air change behind him when someone stood too close. In the firing range, he never missed a shot even when the targets were moving. Almost as if he knew where they were going before they got there. It was apparently because he could hear the creaking of the machinery operating the targets. He could feel the air whooshing as they flew past him. On the field - or, in the training halls - CT-1776’s focus would be laser sharp. Nothing would distract him from the mission at hand and even when told to take a break, he wouldn’t stop until he had completed the task given to him.

Sola also saw a reason behind the “quirks”. She saw that the eye contact and distant, unfocused gazes were because he finds it distressing. The flapping of the hands were a way of releasing energy that seemed “trapped” (as CT-1776 put it) as well as helping to express emotions.The too-tight blacks were about pressure, same as with the armour he wore always being adjusted to the tightest setting possible without causing pain. Ear plugs and eye masks helped to dull overactive senses to help stay calmed and not get too overwhelmed. And the mimicking of others? Well, CT-1776 rarely spoke. His words were those of others, taking what he has heard and repeating it back, twisting the words to help suit what needs to be expressed. With the supervisors his sentences would always seem forced, like it took all his energy to just piece them together let alone say them aloud. Almost as if his brain just couldn’t make the right connections all the time. 

Most importantly of all, Sola saw a team of brothers who had taken all of this in stride. She saw four brothers who knew of the fifth’s abilities and weaknesses and adapted them into their strategies. In learning to adapt to their brother’s differences, the team had created themselves a dynamic that couldn’t be infiltrated or changed. Foxtrot was the team leader; that everyone knew for a fact. Kilo was always the last in and last out, providing cover for his team. Marco and Chase were an inseparable pair. Where one went, the other was sure to be found. Their actions on and off of the training field only helped to prove Sola’s point as she reported back to Master Ti. 

“These men have been so focused on adapting to CT-1776’s needs that I don’t believe that they will be able to fight alongside any of the garrisons out on the field,” Sola admitted, 

“I agree,” Master Ti mused, “but what can be done? We cannot afford to lose any manpower and they are such skilled soldiers. We cannot remove CT-1776 from the equation; everything they do is centred around him.” 

“I’ve been thinking, and I believe I have an answer,” Sola explained, drawing Master Ti’s attention. 

It was from that day forward that Schuyler Squadron came under Sola’s command, not as an adjudicator, but as a leader. She led their training, turning the team into the GAR’s first Special Forces Unit as she used the information she had gathered to create strategies unique to their combat style. They were the first of many specifically trained clone troopers suited for more than just regular combat. All of this was thanks to one unique brother. 

“You can keep stimming, y’know,” the now-Commander Naberrie said to CT-1776 as the Squadron boarded their transport shuttle. She had just sat down in the pilot’s chair when she noticed the trooper struggling to keep his hands from flapping in excitement as they finally got to leave Kamino. Every time he started, he would realise and stop abruptly, only to let out a small and barely audible whine and then start again without noticing. All eyes turned to her when she spoke. “That’s what it’s called. Stimming. You don’t have to hide it, not anymore.” Sola gave a warm smile as CT-1776 slowly processed the information, gradually allowing himself to continue with the fear of repercussions leaving his mind. It seemed to make his brothers happy too, because all of them shared a look of disbelief mixed with relief before going to strap in for take off. 

“Do you wanna choose a nickname now?” Kilo asked CT-1776, firmly squeezing his younger brother’s shoulder. The trooper nodded. 

“Ooh, sounds like fun,” Sola chimed as she primed the engines and plotted their course for Naboo, where they would be picking up the ship that would become their own personal starship, “any ideas?” Everyone went to speak, but CT-1776 beat them to it. 

“Stim,” he said simply, grinning wildly. A grin that Sola quickly mirrored. 

“Well,  _ Stim _ , wanna be my co-pilot?” She asked him, and with another nod Stim and Foxtrot switched seats. He twisted and turned a bit on the spot, as if checking to see if that seat was just right to claim as his seat. By the time they were in the air, he was content. 

Schuyler Squadron, consisting of Commander Sola Naberrie, Captain Foxtrot, and troopers Kilo, Marco, Chase, and Stim, took off into the Galaxy to serve the Republic in the war. In that co-pilot seat, Stim finally felt… free. 


End file.
